


lie with me 'till i fall asleep

by lonelymonsters



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Insomnia, M/M, Not literally, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Harry, Sleepy Louis, Tour Fic, but its not sexual, everyones sleepy, harry is a big octopus, harry knocks louis off the bed, kind of sickfic ?, louis is a little bunny, louis twitches in his sleep, theres so much fucking cuddling, this is really bad im sorry, tour bunks r small
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelymonsters/pseuds/lonelymonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to sleep when Harry is a big cuddly octopus who takes up waaaaay too much space on the already too small bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lie with me 'till i fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> this is complete rubbish im sorry but i saw a gif of sleeping cats and it made me think of louisandharry and i got the idea for this and then the picture of louis sleeping came out and i decided that this had to be written and then some IMBECILE thought it would be funny to edit harry into the pic and it just made me really really sad but happy at the same time and then i wrote this. plus i just love sleepy louis in general so any excuse to write about it is c00l by me. n my writing and grammar is a lot better than this im just waaaay to lazy to run this through spell check. enjoy!!!

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." - Dr Seuss

To say Louis was exhausted would be an incredible understatement. Tour had taken a toll for the worse on him, homesickness hitting him extremely hard and some nasty bug was trying to attack his immune system, giving him a lingering feel of nausea but nothing ever strong enough to actually tip him over the edge to vomit.

There was also the incredible stress that came from touring with the vigorous schedule and constant travel. If touring and homesickness wasn't enough, he was at the top of the world, which brought along paparazzi who documented every word and move he made. There was also the stress of realization that nothing was really safe anymore. Somehow being famous justified and made it acceptable for complete strangers to dig through any and all of his personal life that wasn't caught on camera and put it out for everyone to see. Being famous somehow made it okay for people to stand outside of your flat at three in the morning and bang on your door, shouting provocative comments to try to get a reaction.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful of where he stood with his four best mates, because that was most certainly not how he felt. He loved the fans more than he could ever love himself and he loved touring and making music and the travel and opportunities and awards and even if he hated the general idea of paparazzi, he found a way to tolerate and deal with them. (with the occasional middle fingers and 'fuck you' being thrown out)

He was not ungrateful at all, not even a teeny tiny little bit. Everything could just get a bit too much for him to handle, physically and mentally. 

This week had been particularly taxing for all of them. Lately whatever god was up there had decided that it would be perfect timing to let out a bone chilling rain during almost every single one of their recent concerts. Not that anyone was complaining because performing in the rain (or singing in the rain as Harry would point out after every single one of their stormy concerts) was incredible, the idea that people would brave the cold, wet weather just to hear and watch them be idiots. 

There was luckily a door that separated the bunks from the living room area of the bus so it was quieter, but it didn't help very much. Being the cuddler he was and Harry being the big octopus he was, it was nearly impossible for either one of them to get to sleep unless they were latched onto each other. They had separate bunks, but they never used them, one or the other always ending up crawling into their bunks with the understanding that they couldn't sleep without each other. 

They didn't mind sharing bunks, in fact they loved it. The only problem with this was that these small bunks on the bus were not equipped for two people. The bunk wasn't very wide at all and more often than not, Louis would find himself squished against the back wall of the bunk, Harry lying eagle spread, lanky limbs literally everywhere. Louis was too much of a selfless person when it came to Harry that he never had the heart to wake him up, even he was being completely crushed. Eventually if it did get to much for him, he would try to wake Harry up, which 9/10 times didn't work because of what a deep deep sleeper he was. It also didn't help that Harry was a snorer. Louis loved the sound of his breath going in and out, because he knew that it was something that only he would ever know, but sometimes it would get too much for him and would either have to carefully climb out of their bunk to sleep in the living area, or attempt to roll Harry over (or just turn his head) so that his loud breathing wasn't right in Louis' ear. 

Needless to say, the bus wasn't the place to go if you just needed to sleep.

From the time zone switch to the cramped bus bunks, Louis was running on an incredibly low amount of energy, two hours a night if he was lucky. 

After bolting awake and a quick check of his phone, Louis groaned, realizing that he hadn't even been asleep for even a full half hour. He had lain awake, curled in Harry's arm for almost two hours while the lucky bastard snored gently in his ear. Eventually he had drifted off, but apparently not for long. One of Harry's gangly arms was draped loosely over Louis' side while the other lay above his head, lax fingers tangled in his hair. He could feel Harry's warm breath on the back of his neck, giving him a feeling of comfort. He lay there for a few minutes, taking in his surroundings, the sounds of his fellow band mates. 

They were all asleep, passed out cold which Louis could easily tell by their noises.

Zayn wasn’t a typical snorer but tonight Louis could hear him clear as a whistle. Or more accurately a congested elephant. In sleep it wasn’t uncommon for him to mumble, putting his dreams into unconscious words. However there was none of this going on because his breathing was completely altered do to a slight cold that he had been developing. 

Niall was doing his normal combination of snorting, snoring, gasping, grunting, soft whistles, and basically any noise that you could possibly make while asleep. Zayn gave him grief about it on the daily because his bunk was directly above him, allowing him to hear every little noise he made. But despite complaining regularly, he never requested to switch to a different bunk. 

Liam snored more often than not, but not like the loud obnoxious snores that Zayn was producing. He had a distinct pattern in his snoring, a four quick little breaths in (which could be counted as one) and then one long breath out. From below him he could hear his soft noises… in 234.. and out. in 234.. and out.

Harry had lots of different sleeping habits, all of which Louis knew. On his back he snored the loudest, alike of vacuum cleaner being turned on and off repeatedly. The other boys said that he was just being dramatic, but they also weren’t the ones who slept with him every night. On his stomach was the grunting, but Louis would typically wake him up before he could get to far into sleep because it’s very hard to cuddle with someone who won’t cuddle back. On his side it was the soft breathing, which was louis’ favorite. If he was on his side, Louis would be tucked in to face him or have his back against him in standard spooning position. Either way, he could hear the soft breathing, warm breath against the back of his neck or at his forehead. 

He wasn’t sure what he was like when he slept, but from reports from the boys he concluded that it was safe to say he didn’t make any noise whatsoever. He however was a bit of a twitcher, which everyone thought was hilarious. He had heard several stories about how he had horse kicked Liam or elbowed Niall while deep in slumber.

It was relaxing; listening to his brothers asleep. It gave him a blanket of safety and comfort and he couldn’t really figure out why exactly but he had a general idea. He believed that it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside because he knew that no one else got to see them the way he did. (aside from Paul and Lou and Preston and basically anyone who ever hitched a ride on their bus but that’s beside the point) No one got to know that Zayn talks in his sleep, or Niall can’t make up his mind about what noise he wants to make. No one knew that Harry sounded like an ogre when he slept on his stomach or that Liam was just as organized in sleep as he was awake. No one got to see them like this, not as popstars and celebrities, but as humans.

He lay still for a few more minutes, listening to all of their breathing. Finally he couldn’t take being still for any longer and he very ungracefully attempted to turn over so that he was facing Harry and nuzzled into his chest. Harry moaned, shifting and unconsciously pulling Louis closer to him. Louis giggled quietly looking up at the big octopus who practically engulfed him in his arms and pulled away just far enough to look at his face. 

As per usual, Harry's mouth was open ever so slightly, a small build up of drool at the base of his mouth. (That was something that all five boys had in common; they were all droolers) Louis wiped it off with the tip of his thumb, wiping his finger on Harry’s bare chest, scrunching his face in disgust, even though he honestly didn't care that much. It wasn’t like he had never experienced his bodily fluids before.

He watched as Harry's eyes darted around underneath his eyelids, dreaming. He distinctly remembered Harry telling him some weird fact about how when you get into a deep enough sleep about an hour or something in where you start dreaming. If he remembered correctly it was called REM which he decided stood for really exotic monkeys. 

He watched Harry for a few more seconds before snuggling back into his arms. He was in his staring stage, kind of like a baby. Almost asleep but brain to energetic to let him. His eyes were boring holes into Harry’s soul when he heard a grunt and suddenly the strong arms were no longer in a tight grasp around his waist, but limp, heavy sausages that were practically pushing him off of the bed.

Harry was now in such a deep sleep that essentially you could do anything and he wouldn't wake up. Louis tried to push him over because he was in serious danger of falling off of the bunk. He shoved weakly at his bare torso trying to get him to just. fucking. roll. over. After what couldn’t have been more than a minute of Louis’ weak attempt of gaining more space, Harry did roll over but of course not in the direction that he wanted.

Louis let out a little yelp as his butt hit the floor of the bus. It was more out of surprise than hurt, because very luckily and very smartly Harry had chosen the bottom bunk. 

He frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together and bottom lip stuck out in a pout. Harry was on his stomach, head turned towards Louis. His mouth was open slightly and Louis could see the very tip of his tongue. There was a strand of his normally curly hair draped artistically over his face, moving gently with each breath he took. He looked so young and naive, reminding Louis of the Harry he first fell in love with. He forgot all about being mad at his giant oaf of a boyfriend, and pressed a hard kiss to his inherent lips. 

“I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you” he mumbled against Harry’s lips. 

He watched from his seat on the ground as Harry snuffled and spread himself out across the bunk, even more of his messy hair falling into his closed eyes. Louis stared at him in jealousy of his ability to fall asleep and because, well, he was beautiful. He smiled fondly and brushed his fringe from his eyes. 

He quickly debated about trying to shove Harry over and crawl back in with him, but decided against it. The only thing that would happen then would be he would lie awake unhappily or Harry would wake up and feel terrible for knocking him off the bed. He decided the best option would just be to chill in the living area, have a cuppa, watch a little footie.

He gave Harry another quick kiss before tiptoeing into the living area. 

Unsurprisingly he was the only one up and he turned on the kettle to make himself a cuppa. While waiting for the water to boil, he flipped on the TV to some rerun of what he thought to be how I met your mother and put it on the lowest volume possible and pulled a sweatshirt on that was thrown on the floor (zayns maybe?). 

Once the water was heated he tossed in a bag of the lavender tea he had recently become fond of and settled himself down on the couch. He reached for a blanket and grabbed it with his toe, pulling it up so that his short arms could reach it. He tucked it around himself, feeling fuzzy and warm as he cuddled in the blankets and sipped on his tea. 

He was so tired and he just wanted to sleep but there was something in the back of his mind forbidding him from sleep. So he sat there, the TV barely audible, tea in hand, piled under blankets.

****

Harry had a sixth sense when it came to Louis so it wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up in the middle of the night for the sole reason of not having his louis pressed against his side. 

This time was no different, as he blinked open his eyes and blindly stuck out a hand to hopefully find a louis. To his dismay there was no warm body huddled up against him and even through his blurry eyesight he could tell that the normally small bed looked terribly large.

He groaned dramatically, flopping against the pillows and clutching the thin sweatshirt that Louis had taken off earlier in the night complaining about how it was ‘impossible to sleep in any sort of clothes because some buffoon was a fucking heater’ 

It smelled like Louis, a ‘husky’ lavender scent as he called it. It was very hard for Harry (and all the other boys for that matter) not to say anything about how lavender wasn’t ‘husky’ but he didn’t have the heart to strip Louis from his masculinity like that.

He shut his eyes, burying his face in the sweater. He was tired, but he knew there was no point in just laying there because there would be no way he would get back to sleep unless Louis was there.

wHY Why wHy WHy WhY wHY 

He lay on his back silently cursing anyone that might have had any type of involvement in Louis’ insomnia. Eventually his brief fit of rage ended and he grumpily pushed the blankets off of him and crawled out of his bunk.

He groaned loudly as he stood up and stretched his long legs. He wasn’t concerned about waking anyone up because the only light sleeper was Louis and he was in the living area probably watching tv, or hopefully resting his eyes. He knew that the smaller boy had been going on an average of four hours of sleep a night so he greatly hoped that it was the latter. 

And to his delight it was.

He made his way to the door, groggily sliding it open and slipping out. After his eyes had adjusted to the light and a good eye rub, he saw Louis curled in a ball on the couch some game show playing in the background. 

He watched him for a few moments, waiting for Louis to acknowledge him. When this didn’t happen, a crease formed between his eyebrows.

He walked over and wearily bent down, knees cracking loudly. 

Louis was curled up in on himself, a fluffy blanket drapped over him. From his outline Harry could tell that his knees were pulled up to his chest. His small hands peaked out of the top of Zayn’s horrid purple sweater. A cup of tea was near his face, dangerously close to tipping over. Harry quickly grabbed it and set in on the ground to avoid any sort of accidents before letting out a small smile. 

Louis was asleep. 

He wasn’t sure how deep of a sleep he was in yet so he resisted his incredible urge for coffee, fearing that grinding the beans would wake his sleeping mate. He instead opted for a glass of orange juice but spit it out almost immediately when he realized that one of the boys must have poured things that were not supposed to be put in juice in the same bottle. He grimaced as he tried to maturely wipe the taste off of his tongue with his bare hands, trying to rid his mouth of the tangy flavour.

It didn’t work.

Moodily he trudged over to the couch that still housed the sleeping little bunny, and sat down next to him. Louis didn’t move but a soft sigh escaped his thin lips. Harry wasn’t sure of how deep a sleep Louis was in, so he didn’t want to go right ahead and cuddle him in fear that he might wake up. 

He instead opted for gently scratching Louis’ scalp and watching as he instinctively moved into the touch. He didn’t wake, soft breaths coming from his lips, chest rising and falling with each breath. 

After a few minutes of the gentle touches, and Harry was positive Louis was dead to the world, he lifted himself over the sleeping boy, placing himself in between Louis and the back of the couch. He wrapped his long arms around him as Louis unconsciously curled into the warm body, hands pawing at Harry’s bare chest, right above his heart. Harry blearily smiled down at him, watching him sleep. 

Harry was almost asleep, mind hazy when there was a sharp pain to his jaw causing him to jolt awake. 

Louis was still fast asleep, warm breath against the nape of his neck. His hand was lax but lying suspiciously close to the aching spot on his jaw. A low chuckle rumbled through his body as he came to the realization that Louis had smacked him in his sleep. He gently removed the hand that he had been resting his head on out from under it and gently grabbed Louis’ small hand and squeezing it lightly in his. It was a rather awkward position for both of them and Harry was glad Louis was asleep otherwise he would worry about how Harry was going to hurt his back if he stayed in this position. He pressed a soft kiss to his hand, and then because he couldn’t resist, a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you I love you I love you I love you” He whispered before he lay his head back down, tugging the sleeping boy even closer to him and shutting his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated !!!! twitter: @lustandlouis 
> 
> ps i don't own one direction in any way shape or form this is a work of pure fiction even though i will bet my left buttcheek that something like this has happened before have a nice day


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